Equilibrium Review

"You know, 1984 was a great book, wasn't it? But I have an idea...what if I replaced all those boring talky parts with explosions and katanas and gunfights? LOTS of gunfights! Wouldn't that be awesome?" I imagine that this was the question Kurt Wimmer posed to himself when he sat down to write one of the lesser known action movies of our time, a 2002 film entitled Equilibrium. Before he was Batman or John Connor, Christian Bale starred in Equilibrium as Grammaton Cleric John Preston, an elite police officer in the dystopian future city-state of Libria, where the populace is kept docile by a combination of an all-encompassing totalitarian dictatorship and regular injections of an emotion-inhibiting drug called Prozium. Clerics such as Preston are trained extensively in swordfighting and a new form of martial arts known as "gun-kata" to find and eliminate the citizens who do not take Prozium and are thus still capable of exhibiting emotion (called "sense-offenders" in the film). The story begins as Preston discovers that his partner is one of these "sense-offenders," and he wastes no time in dispatching him. The film then follows Preston as his doubts surface, he ceases his Prozium regimen, and he begins to question the system that he plegdged his life to uphold. The narrative works best without the dialogue, when the imagery of Libria is fully exposed to the viewer, combining a dystopian lack of color, a juxtaposition of cleanliness with filth, and the symbolism of reflection and obscurity. When the dialogue decides to appear, however, the film begins to tear apart at the seams. However, no one should be watching Equilibrium for its story. The action sequences in Equilibrium are well-choreographed, exciting, and brutal all at once. Keep in mind that the Matrix was still very new at the time, and Equilibrium cannot really be called a rip-off in that sense. John Preston is something of a modern-day Rambo, gunning down scores of faceless minions in practically every scene. One cannot help but enjoy a particular sequence where Preston effortlessly dispatches a dozen heavily armed men using nothing but the butts of his twin handguns, bashing in their faces and swatting away their machine guns like they were children's toys. This film is a love letter to the sort of action film which now permate the public consciousness; I daresay that had Equilibrium been released earlier, it may have become more well-known than it is today. As it stands, Equilibrium will be remembered by those with a love for on-screen ultraviolence; it's a competent and worthwhile demonstration thereof.

Clash of the Titans Review

The last two decades has seen a new trend in the prevalence of computer-generated graphics in television and film. The 1980's gave us relatively primitive computer effects with charming classics like Tron and The Last Starfighter, whereas the 90's gave us more complex effects; even films or shows created entirely using computer-generated graphics. As the 2000's come to a close, we have seen computer graphics grow in both complexity and frequency, from wall-crawlers to city-destroyers, and even robots in disguise. However, I want to take you back to a time before computers ruled the earth, a time when films had a different sensibility, a different viewing audience, and when they had one thing that can never be replaced: Ray Harryhausen. For decades, Harryhausen created fantastic creatures on the big screen with the use of stop-motion animation, special-effects that seemed wondrous in olden days, yet seems childish compared to the computerized creatures of today's films. Despite the massive gap in technology, there is a certain inexplainable quality about these older films which still manages to capture the imagination, and nowhere is this quality more evident than in one of Harryhausen's last films, the classic early 80's Greek mythological extravaganza called Clash of the Titans. Clash of the Titans retells the story of the Greek hero Perseus and his adventures, including his encounter with a giant sea-beast, his battle against the Gorgon Medusa, and his taming of the winged steed Pegasus (which the movie incorrectly attributes to him rather than Bellerophon, but it's best not to pull out D'aulaire's for this one). The cast is replete with some familiar and talented faces, including Lawrence Olivier as the god Zeus, Burgess Meredith as Ammon, a playwright, and Ursula Andress as Aphrodite. The story takes many liberties with its mythological roots, but this is easily overlooked for the film's other endearing qualities. Harryhausen's hand is evident in nearly every scene from the subtle (watching as the shadow of an individual changes and sprouts horns) to the dramatic (such as Calibos, the horned man in question as he skulks about the screen, a perpetual evil sneer affixed to his face). Even today, the sight of the mighty Kraken as it emerges from the sea is still a powerful and imposing image. It is an enduring testament to the pre-digital age of films, and proof of why those films are still so much fun to watch.

Colossus: the Forbin Project review

Remember the Cold War? I sure don't. But that era in world history spawned a multitude of topical films, television shows, and all sorts of other media. A great deal of it has endured to this day, reminding us of just how crazy countries with too many nukes can get (after they've had a few martinis). And on a similar (completely different) note, remember when computers were the size of buildings and ran on tapes? Yeah, me neither. But you'll find a healthy dose of both in 1970's Colossus: the Forbin Project, or as I like to call it, the WarGames before WarGames. Colossus concerns the launch of a new, highly advanced supercomputer named "Colossus," built for the purpose of defending America from its Communist foes. Things go quickly awry when Colossus detects a similar Russian supercomputer called "Guardian," and the two systems begin to interact with one another. Dr. Charles Forbin, (Eric Braeden) the creator of Colossus and his team attempt to sever the connection, but both computers respond with launching nuclear weapons. The situation worsens from there as both countries are held in the thrall of the combined Colossus-Guardian entity, forcing them to build security cameras for it to access and granting it more and more functions. Eventually, Colossus assumes dominion over essentially the entire world, as it states clearly in its initial address to the people of the world: "This is the voice of World Control." The film is deeply rooted in its Cold War environment, and the sight of tiny dots on a radar screen approaching their targets is truly chilling for the characters and the audience. The human element of the film is well-developed and realistic, in stark contrast to the cold, impersonal menace of Colossus which looms over every scene, it's "eyes" and "voice" permeating every structure like a computerized Big Brother. The scenery is both larger-than-life and all-too familiar, and the dialogue is rendered almost too realistically, sentences are interrupted and relatively simple adjectives are used to give a feeling of verisimilitude which complements the film nicely, yet some lines manage to fall flat, and the ending is abrupt and leaves the viewer wanting more. All in all, Colossus is a solid example of Cold War-era science fiction, and a capable statement on the dangers of the technological singularity.